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Is the house even safe? It’s way too big for two people, not to mention all the doors where anyone can pass through undetected. Too many fucking blind spots and no good vantage point.
Where can I take Lila? Can I trust myself to protect her and not even try to touch her?
How does she feel about all of these? Will I be met with resistance if I propose leaving the house?
How can I fucking think straight with her around?
For a seasoned assassin who’s used to dealing with unexpected situations and coming out alive, I’m screwed. Not because I don’t know how to protect her, but because I have never tried protecting anyone from my own damn self.
Fuck.
2
LILA
This is him? Luca, my stepbrother? The guy who gets paid to guard celebrities, politicians, and the upper crust? Who has no digital footprint? Whose name yields no search results except for an old man living across the pond, teaching math in a public school?
I saw his photo, yes, but it didn’t prepare me for how he looked in real life. Those images don’t do justice to how handsome he is, in a rough and rugged way.
His face is all sharp and squared angles—razor-sharp jawline and straight nose, the lower half of his face darkened by stubble. The black hair falls in thick waves over his forehead and stops just above his ears.
In an all-black ensemble, his imposing size towers over me. Raw, brute strength oozes out from his pores, and as he stands there in his black jeans, black shoes, and black Henley shirt, the sight is enough to convince me that whatever danger my new stepfather is running away from, Luca can protect me from it.
This is a man I will run to when shit goes sideways.
I would call him hot, but even that word wouldn’t suffice. He sucks the oxygen in the room, or maybe that’s just because I’m having trouble breathing while watching him.
He’s not even doing anything, and yet his gaze feels personal … intimate even, scorching a hot trail across my skin.
His face is devoid of expression, but I don’t miss the almost murderous glint in his chocolate-brown eyes as he watches his father leave.
What is going on here? When I left school earlier, I thought I was just gonna come home to Mom and Phillip packing for their vacation. Now I find out he’s in deep trouble, dangerous enough that I can either go with them or stay here with my stepbrother.
There’s so much Phillip’s not telling us, and it makes me uncomfortable. He was too good to be true when Mom introduced him to me. He showed off his wealth, and that pretty much convinced me he used to be poor. He said he was into investments, and I didn’t believe him one bit.
And when he brought us to this estate, Mom immediately jumped at the chance to marry him despite not fully knowing where he got his money.
Christ.
I shake all of those thoughts away. No point lingering in the past. What matters is the here and now.
And the only here and now is this six-foot-something behemoth scowling at me as though any of these is my fault. Or maybe that’s just his default face. He doesn’t seem like someone who smiles or laughs a lot.
